Nursemaid
by Onomatopeia Jones
Summary: Emilie nannies two children. Every day, she takes them on a walk through the park. And every day, she buys a pape from the blueeyed Brooklyn newsie with a nice butt. Not that she was looking... Just a wee bit of fluff to ovecome writer's block.


Nursemaid

Emilie was the nursemaid for the Jefferson kids, since they didn't have a mother. She'd died two years ago, while giving birth to the younger of the two, a mischievous, tow-headed little boy named Elijah. She called him Eli for short. The elder was a little girl named Caroline. She was about as sweet as sweet could be. She had hair like corn silk and the biggest, brightest blue eyes you've ever seen. Every morning, around eleven, Emilie took the kids for a stroll through the park. There were parks in the nicer sections of Brooklyn. Every day, around 11:30, she bought a newspaper from a young man with exceptionally blue eyes and a very nice butt. Not that she was looking…

Spot Conlon was the most feared and respected newsie in New York, and probably everywhere else. He had an eye and a knack for catching beautiful women. Because of this, some called him a boorish, womanizing man-whore. He usually didn't sleep with the girls he went out with, and never on the first date. He waited at least until the third. Most of the time, he only asked a girl out because he didn't want to show up to whatever social gathering he was asking her to alone. He didn't expect to go steady with her. He just wanted a companion. Girls rarely understood that, though, and it got him in trouble often. He hadn't had a girl in a while, and he'd been thinking that it might be nice to have one of his own again. The hard part was finding one. She had to be more than beautiful. She had to have a personality and independence. She had to be a challenge.

Emilie was taking the kids for their daily stroll when she came upon the newsie. _Her_ newsie, as she'd come to think of him. The kids were being rambunctious. She loved them dearly, don't be mistaken, but that day they were just being very…naughty. Emilie had brought some stale bread for the kids to throw to the ducks. She watched from a nearby bench as they threw the bread at the ducks and chased them. She sighed. She really should've gone and stopped them, but she'd been up all night the night before tending to her sick mother. She was about to doze off when she noticed a shadow on the ground in front of her. She looked up into the most intriguing steely blue eyes she'd ever seen. She invited him to sit, and he did.

Spot had only one paper left. He'd saved it specially for the mother he always saw. He knew that she was taken, but he couldn't help himself. Her beauty was almost…poetic as he watched her. The bright sun bathed her smooth, creamy skin in golden light and brought out the soft rust tones in the rich honey brown of her hair. Long eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to keep awake. One corner of her mouth was perpetually tucked up as if a teasing smile always played on those soft, rosy, perfectly shaped lips. She looked tired and worn-out, but she was still the most beautiful creature Spot had ever seen. Of course he didn't tell her this. It didn't show on his face how much he wanted her, either. He was good at masking his emotions.

She looked over at him. He was a most attractive young man. Very much so. Her glance flicked briefly back to Eli and Caroline, then back to him. "Do you have a name?" she asked politely.

His heart nearly stopped when she turned her eyes to him. They were two swirling starbursts of bright greeny-blue. Her irises seemed to be flecked with color, as if someone had gone and painted them with thousands of tiny dots. He managed to maintain his composure, even under the turquoise gaze of this captivating young woman. "Yeah. Dey calls me Spot." He winced inwardly. His voice sounded so…coarse, with his Brooklyn accent and poor grammar compared to her soft, musical, grammatically correct speech.

Her eyes widened. "As in Spot Conlon? From the newsie strike? You're practically a legend where I live!"

"Really?" he said, surprised a young, rich wife and mother would've ever heard about the newsie strike.

She nodded. "If it weren't for you guys, my brother and his friends would never have even thought to strike! You practically saved the lives of his whole construction crew!"

Now he was even more surprised. "Your brother works in construction?"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

"What?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to one side.

She looked like a curious little wren. Spot fought to keep himself under control. "I t'ought dem rich guys only married rich goils."

She looked at him in confusion, then Caroline came running up to her, crying. As she lifted the little girl into her lap, realization dawned on her. "OH! No, they're not mine. I'm they're nurse. I'm not married to their father. I work for him," she said, chuckling.

In his head, Spot was doing the happy dance. He was hooting and hollering and celebrating. "Deir noise? Ain't dey got a muddah?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. The poor things. She died giving birth to Eli," she said looking at the little boy who was still chasing the ducks.

Spot nodded in understanding. "Oh."

"Yeah. I'm Emilie, by the way," she said, holding out her hand to shake.

"Nice to meetcha, Emilie."

Emilie pulled a penny out of the pocket in her skirt. "Mind if I buy your last pape?" she said, holding the coin out to him.

Spot smiled charmingly. " A' coise I don't mind. What newsie minds selling papes? Especially to such a pretty goil as you?"

A slight blush rose underneath the freckles on her nose and cheeks. "Thank you," she said, pressing the coin into his hand as she accepted the paper.

Spot gave her back her penny. "Tell ya what. You can have that pape fa free if you'll meet me at Tony's at seven o' clock tonight."

Emilie raised an eyebrow, smirking playfully. "And if I don't?"

Spot smirked right back at her. "Den you ain't getting' rid a' me till you will."

Emilie chuckled as she gathered up Eli and Caroline and headed back to the house.

Spot shook his head and laughed to himself as she walked away. He'd found his girl.


End file.
